


The Lies We Tell Ourselves

by toribook (ToriMoxley)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, M/M, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Stucky - Freeform, Tony Stark's Big Mouth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-18
Updated: 2017-01-18
Packaged: 2018-09-18 07:36:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9374699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToriMoxley/pseuds/toribook
Summary: "Is it true that you're still a virgin?"“That’s very personal!”“I’m not hearing a no, Capsicle,” Tony teased. “I’m just hearing excuses.” He waved a hand around the room, gesturing to the other Avengers. “The people want to know, has the great Captain America ever bumped uglies? Creamed the twinkie? Done the dance with no pants?”





	

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on Tumblr?  
> http://tori-book.tumblr.com/

“Is it true that you’re still a virgin?” The temperature in the Avengers Tower seemed to drop by several degrees from the moment those words left Tony Stark’s big mouth. Bucky had spent a lot of time cryogenically frozen these past seventy years, but that type of cold didn’t even begin to compare to the ice that began flowing through his veins.

“That’s… that’s not—“ Steve sputtered, face and ears burning red as he glanced around at the other Avengers, looking absolutely mortified. Bucky would have thought his reaction was adorable if it weren’t for the nature of the question. Steve, Natasha, Clint and Wanda had just finished a mission taking down a rogue Hydra base near Chernobyl. Bucky still wasn’t cleared for going on missions, so he was forced to stay behind in New York with nobody but Vision for company while Steve risked his life in the former Soviet Union trying to take down the group that had tormented them for the past seven decades. 

Normally after a long mission—this one had taken nearly two weeks—Steve liked to go to sleep almost as soon as he got home, but Tony, ever the overgrown child, had insisted that the Avengers spend what he called “family time” together. That was how they all found themselves in the communal living room, playing truth or dare.

Wanda and Vision had already been forced to kiss, Sam had used the Falcon wings to fly around New York naked and Thor had almost pulverized Clint when he had suggested that Natasha dare him to cut off his hair. The years may have changed Steve physically, but his personality was still the same; he was still excited over the prospect of getting new paint and brushes for his art, he still had to stop and look at every dog he saw on the street, and he still got embarrassed when discussing his and Bucky’s love life.

“That’s very personal!” Steve finally managed to say. Normally Bucky would have found Steve’s embarrassment endearing, it was a reminder that even with the bulging muscles and abs hard enough to cut glass, that Steve Rogers was still his Steve Rogers. Bucky loved to see his Captain flustered, but Steve was right, this was too personal. Tony’s lack of brain-to-mouth filter could have been attributed to the whiskey he poured into his coffee, but realistically, lack of a brain-to-mouth filter was a major part of Tony Stark’s personality.

Natasha, Sam, Wanda and Vision all had the decency to shake their heads at Tony’s invasive question, but Bucky could see it in their eyes—they were curious, too.

“I’m not hearing a no, Capsicle,” Tony teased. “I’m just hearing excuses.” He waved a hand around the room, gesturing to the other Avengers. “The people want to know, has the great Captain America ever bumped uglies? Creamed the twinkie? Done the dance with no pants?” Bucky could feel his skin tingle with annoyance, the pinkie finger of his left hand twitched as Steve made a choking sound, like a cat trying to hack up a fur ball, but he could not produce words.

“No,” Tony cackled, shaking his head in disbelief, “you’re lying. I mean, I know maybe in the forties you didn’t have the time, or the looks, or the money, but it’s the twenty-first century, Cap, its 2017!” Tony put his espresso mug down on the glass coffee table and leaned his elbows on his knees, leering at Steve from across the room.

“What was the problem, exactly?” He asked. “The USO girls didn’t get your flag rising?” Bucky gripped the arm of his chair as Clint snorted loudly and attempted to hide it with an obviously fake hacking cough.

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about, Steve.” The smirk on his face was as sharp as one of the arrowheads in the quiver by his feet. “Performance issues are very common for men your age; you know we have a little blue pill that can help you with that now.” Natasha thumped him hard on the back as he and Tony guffawed, but it was Bucky shouting, “Заткнись!” and the arm of his chair splintering under the pressure of his prosthetic metal arm that had all laughter, all chatter, all teasing cease instantly.

These men and women made up the superhero group known as the Avengers, Earth’s Mightiest Heroes, but all of them were extra cautious around Bucky. He normally didn’t like being treated like a ticking time bomb that they all had to tiptoe around, but at times like this he had to admit that it was somewhat comforting to know that he could keep this group of ragtag misfits in line, even if only because they feared him. Bucky knew from experience in World War II, it was better to be feared and listened to than it was to be liked and ignored.

Wanda pressed her lips together in a very thin line, so thin they almost disappeared, but it did nothing to stop the small whimper of fright that she made. “Bucky,” Steve said quietly, rising from his seat on the couch next to her, “let’s go to bed, now.” He left his half-full cup of coffee on one of the side tables and patted Wanda on the head before starting to walk out of the communal living space that the Avengers shared.

Bucky didn’t move from his broken arm chair until Steve stopped in the doorway and turned back, holding out his hand. “Please?” He pleaded, “I’m really tired…” That was what got Bucky out of his seat and off of his ass. Steve’s hand trembled when Bucky laced their fingers together; it was the only indication that Tony’s and Clint’s words bothered him. His entire personality was centered on being honest and true, but there was still a part of him who was the stubbornly brave little punk from Brooklyn.

Nobody said anything as Steve led Bucky into the elevator and in his calm, polite superhero voice, asked FRIDAY to take them to the seventeenth floor, their own personal apartment. The record player was still repeating the same album Bucky had been listening to earlier, but it was just a buzzing in the background. Steve kept a tight hold on Bucky’s hand as they exited the elevator, the other hand was working lethargically at the zippers of his Captain America uniform.

“I’m sorry.” Bucky said softly, dragging the fingers of his flesh and blood hand up the hard ridges of Steve’s spine before he reached the zipper at his neck. He would never admit it, not to Steve or anybody else, but he often missed how Steve’s body used to be. Not the asthma that made him struggle for air or the illnesses that seemed to gravitate towards him, but he missed Steve’s compact little size; the way his head fit perfectly under Bucky’s chin, how easily Bucky could lift him into his arms—although the super soldier serum that made him the Winter Soldier still allowed him to lift Captain America like he weighed less than one hundred pounds soaking wet, like he was still Bucky’s Stevie.

Bucky pressed his lips to the exposed flesh of Steve’s neck as he dragged the zipper down his back, inhaling the scent of sweat and bergamot in his hair. Steve exhaled shakily, leaning his head back into Bucky’s nose and mouth, enjoying the scratch of stubble against his skin, but even that could not distract him from Bucky’s apology.

“What are you sorry for, Buck?” He asked, genuinely curious because he was damn sure that Bucky was not sorry for getting angry at Tony and Clint’s ribbing. But Bucky didn’t answer. He continued to nose at Steve’s messy dark blonde hair as he helped him out of the toned down Star-Spangled outfit. Usually the thought of Steve alone was enough to have Bucky at half-mast, let alone standing naked in front of him, but he remained soft inside of his well-worn blue jeans. Tony and Clint’s joking still bounced around inside of his skull—Steve may have been embarrassed by it, but Bucky felt like someone had liquefied his insides.

Steve could see that something was bothering Bucky. Sam could make all of the old jokes he wanted, but Steve was not born yesterday. He allowed Bucky to lead him into the bedroom they both shared and climbed naked into the bed, slipping under the warm, downy comforter as Bucky shucked his jeans, socks and long sleeved t-shirt before crawling in behind Steve, wrapping his arms around Steve’s torso. A low hum of pleasure rumbled from deep in his chest as two hands—one metal, one flesh—began kneading the tense muscles of Steve’s impressive pectorals. The sound made Bucky freeze and, for a split second, Steve wondered if whatever was bothering Bucky was stressful enough to turn him full Winter Soldier.

His question was answered when Bucky finally spoke, but it just begged more questions.

“You know that I love you, right?”

Steve paused, his eyebrows furrowed in bewilderment. “Of course I do,” he answered, “you remind me every day.”

“And you know that I would do anything for you?” Steve took Bucky’s hands in his, pressing gentle kisses to each fingertip individually before he rolled onto his other side, facing Bucky. “You always have.” Steve craned his neck up to kiss him, but Bucky’ troubled expression stopped him dead in his tracks. That was a look he hadn’t seen since they two were on the Quinjet headed for Siberia, when Bucky expressed to Steve that he was not worth all the hassle they had to deal with.

“Not always.” Bucky whispered regretfully, and suddenly Steve understood exactly what he was referring to. Damn Tony Stark and his big mouth. Damn Clint Barton for making it even worse.

“Baby it’s okay,” Steve said soothingly, combing his fingers through Bucky’s dark, chin length hair. “Tony and Clint don’t know what they’re talking about.”

“They know enough, Stevie.” Bucky shook his head. “Tony Stark may be a cocky, arrogant son of a bitch, but he’s not an idiot. If you want to get technical, we’ve been together for over seventy years, and the most intimate thing we’ve ever done is blow jobs and hand jobs.”

Normally Steve would become flustered talking about such a topic, but this was serious. Bucky’s blue eyes did not have that sparkle of mischief that Steve had grown to love; instead, they were sombre and remorseful. “God knows I’ve done it with dames before we finally figured out what we were and how we felt. It’s not like I couldn’t go further with you,” He continued, tightening his grip around Steve’s rib cage, “It’s because I wouldn’t.”

The confession hit Steve like a Hulked-out Bruce had punched him in the stomach, he felt almost sick at the thought that maybe Bucky didn’t want him anymore, that Steve was just an innocent experiment, that maybe he cared more about their relationship than Bucky did. However, almost a century of friendship had given Bucky a sixth sense, kind of like what Peter called his “Spidey-sense”, Bucky had his “Stevie-sense”.

Bucky grasped Steve’s chin tightly with his bionic arm and brought their mouths together in a desperate, bruising kiss that had their teeth clacking together and Steve gasping into his mouth. “I know you, punk.” Bucky whispered when he pulled back, only a hair’s length away from those pouty, kiss-swollen lips. “I know how you think, I know what you’re thinking right now, and you’re wrong.”

Steve blinked up at him in a daze, but didn’t speak, he just panted quietly.

“I love you so much, baby, so much. I always have. I loved you before the serum, after the serum and I’ll love you when the serum wears off.” If the serum wears off, his mind reminded him. “It’s because I love you that we never made love in the traditional sense. I know you don’t like to remember, but you were tiny, Steve. I was bigger than you in every way; taller, heavier, more muscular. I was scared to touch you in that way because I worried that maybe your body couldn’t handle it.”

Steve looked mildly annoyed, but Bucky continued before he could interrupt. “You got out of breathe just rubbing off through our clothes, what if you had an asthma attack when and if we ever had sex?” Although Steve’s lungs healed when he was injected with the super-soldier serum, the thought of seeing Steve gasping for air, with his lips tinged light blue still had Bucky’s heart clenching tightly in his chest. 

“What if the doctors who would’ve had to treat you found out and sent us to the asylum or prison? Or worse,” His entire body shook at his next thought, “what if I couldn’t get you to a doctor and you died?”

Steve’s eyes misted and he grew ashamed of himself, hiding his face in Bucky’s chest. He had no idea that Bucky felt like this. How many times had he attempted to initiate sex between them when they had sleep-overs at the Barnes’ house, or when Bucky spent the night with him when his mother had to work graveyard shifts at the hospital? It only got worse when he and Bucky moved into their first apartment, when they had the privacy to do whatever their hearts desired and Bucky didn’t give in. He made a fair point. But that was before.

“What about after?” Steve murmured against his lover’s sternum. “When Doctor Erskine gave me the serum, when my body was strong and healthy?”

“We were in the middle of a war, sugar.” Bucky reminded him gently, his mouth was still in the firm line between serious and saddened, but his blue eyes regained that sparkle. “The other soldiers had them USO girls to keep them company, but if you and I tried, and were caught doing it? We’d get two first class blue tickets back to Brooklyn in a heartbeat, Captain America be damned.

“And now?” Steve asked. He would agree with everything that Bucky said, both pre-serum and in the war, but times had changed. Like Tony was kind enough to point out, it was 2017. People were more accepting than they were in the thirties and forties—hell, this coming June would mark the two year anniversary that same-sex marriage became legal in all fifty states.

“I’m not scared that you won’t be able to handle it now.” Bucky said reluctantly, pulling his metal arm away, trying to avoid touching Steve’s skin. “I’m scared of what I might do. You’ve seen what happens when I lose control, you know that Hydra’s programming is still etching inside my brain, any psychopath could say those fucking trigger words and I’d turn into the Asset in an instant.” He snapped his metal fingers as if to demonstrate how fast he could change. “I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you, if I did something to hurt you.”

Steve took Bucky’s hands in his, silently fighting against his protests at touching the titanium one before the limbs went still between his shield-calloused fingers. Bucky tensed when Steve put his flesh hand against his heart and wrapped the smooth, cool fingers around his throat. He couldn’t feel his pulse beating, but he knew from experience that it must have been beating a mile a minute.

“I know that I trust you,” Steve told him gently, “I know that I’m more than ready for you, but if you’re not ready, I want you to know that it’s okay. I’ve waited for almost a century. I won’t mind if I have to wait one century more.”

**Author's Note:**

> This originally started as a part of a 52 week writing challenge, ~~which i was severely behind in~~ but I've decided to write it as a standalone. If enough people enjoy it and give kudos and comments, I might consider adding a second chapter in which the First Time™ occurs between these two beautiful boys.
> 
> Translations  
>  ~~according to google translate~~  
>  Заткнись: Shut up (Russian)


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